


The Scars that Define Us

by bluerose5



Series: Shakarian One Shots [2]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Colonist (Mass Effect), F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Implied Sexual Content, Infiltrator (Mass Effect), Mass Effect 2, Mutual Pining, Nudity, Pining, Renegade Shepard (Mass Effect), Ruthless (Mass Effect), Showers, Slight possessive behavior, Sparring, Swearing, briefly, loyalty missions, zorya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:21:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28193118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluerose5/pseuds/bluerose5
Summary: After the mission goes sideways on Zorya, Shepard needs to work through some tension. Luckily, her favorite turian is there to help.With a sparring match, of course.[Can be read as a continuation of "Victory is Sweet" or as a standalone fic.]
Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Series: Shakarian One Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2065365
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	The Scars that Define Us

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo! Trying to work through a funk I'm in to start back on my Dragon Age WIP, so I've only been managing one shots at the moment. This turned out way longer than I expected, but I'm satisfied enough with the end product for now to post. :)
> 
> I mostly rated this M just in case. Personally, I don't think it's too graphic or descriptive in certain areas, but I'd rather be safe than sorry. 
> 
> Enough rambling for now, though. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

“How can you be so sure she’s the real Commander Shepard?” 

The question was turning out to be a common one, yet it never ceased to surprise him when it was asked. It was a question that constantly looped through his mind, like a broken record playing over and over again.

Garrus never knew how to answer, mostly because even he wasn’t sure how to respond. Truth was, besides those who were involved with Project Lazarus, no one was one hundred percent certain whether the Commander really was the original Shepard. Not even Jane herself would claim such certainty, and Garrus could see how the doubts would eat away at her, usually right before she would change the subject. She hated the attention. She despised the scrutiny, yet she tolerated it.

It was hard to simply take Cerberus at their word about her reconstruction and recovery, and Shepard knew that better than most.

It was why she never once fought back on Horizon when Kaidan confronted her. And for someone as headstrong and straightforward as she, it cut even deeper to watch her swallow down her words and accept the distrust thrown her way.

Garrus tried his best to allay her concerns regarding the matter, but he wasn’t exactly a miracle worker by any means.

Which is why, had this been anyone else asking him that question, he would have been able to bullshit his way out of it. But Tali was the one asking this time, still on edge after everything that happened both on Freedom’s Progress and Haestrom. It was tough losing a team, something Garrus was all too familiar with, but they both kept on going.

They had to.

Nevertheless, Tali was more attuned to Garrus than the others, so he knew that chances of his lies slipping past her undetected were slim to none.

Besides, it would be nice to actually confide in someone about this. Shepard was gone, out on some mission with Zaeed and Miranda at Ashland Refinery, so he and Tali should have plenty of time to talk and get things out in the open.

The short answer to her question was, “I'm not.”

Then again, he didn’t feel sure about anything these days.

Tali blinked at him, not expecting that.

“What?” Garrus chuckled bitterly. “Expected blind loyalty out of me? Service with no questions asked?”

“No offense, but yes.” Tali found a crate to perch on, sealing the doors shut to the main battery. “In any case, you joined up faster than I did.”

“Because you had a mission to tend to,” he said, focusing solely on the monitor in front of him while he spoke. “When Shepard came to recruit me, I had _nothing_ left for me on Omega. My entire squad was dead. My operations were compromised. All the major merc groups now had me on their ‘shit lists,’ as Shepard put it. She pulled my ass out of the fire when I was close to dying. Figured I had no reason _not_ to join up at that point.”

“That, and you knew that you could use Cerberus's resources to track down the man who betrayed you.”

How did she—

Tali interrupted before he could venture too far down that line of thought, “Don’t blame Shepard. She wouldn’t give me the details. Just told me that you’ve been having a rough time lately dealing with someone that sold you out.”

Garrus wrinkled his nose.

“I didn’t realize that I've been the topic of discussion for your little gossip sessions,” he muttered.

A pillow from his cot went sailing past his head, harmlessly hitting the wall before flopping down onto the floor.

“You better be planning on putting that back,” Garrus huffed, not even looking up from the task at hand.

“As soon as you stop acting like an _ax’kah._ Original Shepard or not, she’s genuinely worried about you.”

Then why let him follow through on his plan with Sidonis? It was something that he had been ruminating over since he killed him. Shepard wasn't usually the type to agonize over such a death, but she _had_ been dragging her heels the entire mission.

For a while there, it had seemed like she was going to press the situation until he let Sidonis go. She knew that she could, that she ultimately had that much influence over him, but then she stepped aside.

And Garrus took the shot.

They hadn’t talked much since, neither of them really knowing what to say to break the tension. Shepard took advantage of the uncertainty hanging between them to see to the needs of the other crew members, hence Tali's presence on board and the current mission they were undertaking on Zorya.

It was only a matter of time until they needed to have a talk, though. Shepard wasn’t exactly one to run away from her problems.

Still, it kind of hurt to know that she had talked about him with Tali behind his back, no matter how brief.

Then again, he didn’t have much room to judge, considering their current conversation and all.

But he refused to continue down this path where _he_ was the subject of their discussion.

“I don’t know what to make of her,” he explained, returning to the initial point. Tali sat up a bit straighter, following his movements with watchful eyes. “She talks like Shepard. She acts like Shepard. Hell, she even shoots like Shepard.”

That last point was clearly the most important.

“But—” Tali prodded.

“ _But,_ ” Garrus continued, “the only people whose word we have to go off of that she’s the real deal is Miranda’s and Jacob's.”

“Cerberus, in other words.”

“Exactly, and while I admire their tenacity in investigating the Collectors and their missing colonists, that doesn’t erase all of their past wrongdoings that I saw firsthand with Shepard.” He clamped his mandibles down tight. “I trust these bastards about as far as I can throw them.”

And he hoped the Illusive Man heard that. Shepard made it no secret that they were being monitored.

“So, what? Do you think she’s a clone?”

“Maybe, but why go through the extensive cybernetics in that case? Sure, some would be expected for enhancement purposes, but it looks like she has some hardware installed solely to keep her spine _intact_ , not to boost her nervous system.”

A little tidbit of information that he pieced together from the multiple scans he watched her undergo, mostly when they were on board the Citadel. Her genetics turned out to be a solid match. Like Bailey said, the new and improved scanners were programmed to detect differences even down to skin _flakes_.

They were also able to track cybernetics, both registered and unregistered. It was… mind-boggling when Garrus first glimpsed her cybernetics scan. The amount of tech and hardware invested in her recovery was astronomical. It was no wonder it cost so much to bring her back.

“Then it’s more probable that she really is Shepard?”

“I would say so. I’m positive enough about her identity to remain at her side, but you asked if I was _sure_ of it, which I’m not. Hard to be certain about someone’s survival when last you heard, they had gotten spaced.”

“You’re telling me,” Tali sighed. “Imagine being there in person.”

As if he needed a reminder.

While he was off playing Spectre, making the most out of his evaluation phase, the Normandy was getting attacked halfway across the galaxy. The moment when Shepard needed him most, and he wasn’t there. A hard pill to swallow most days, one that he tried not to linger on.

Easier said than done when Shepard’s presence was a constant reminder of his failure.

Garrus cleared his throat, his mouth suddenly as dry as a desert.

“Well, if anything, the Commander is about as vocal as you would expect her to be about working with Cerberus.”

Tali snorted. “That’s an understatement. She makes Jack’s attitude towards Cerberus look downright affectionate.”

While Shepard had warmed up to the crew at least, she didn’t hold back at all regarding the organization as a whole and the Illusive Man himself.

“Heh, have to say, if their intention was to make Shepard more _compliant_ by reviving her, then they failed.”

“Greatly,” Tali agreed, the glow of her eyes squinting through her faceplate when she smiled. “And don’t even get me started on them recruiting Joker and Chakwas for the crew.”

“An obvious attempt at trying to put her at ease,” Garrus hummed. “Surround her with people she trusts and hope that she puts up less resistance to her new role.”

“They’re not exactly as subtle as they think, are they?”

“Not even close.”

Before either of them could say anything else, the sound of a cloak disintegrating echoed throughout the room. Both of them jumped in shock at the intruder’s sudden appearance, yet their immediate reactions couldn’t have been any more different. Garrus instantly pulled the firearm that he always kept at his side, turning on his heel with his weapon out, aimed and ready. Meanwhile, Tali stumbled in the background, losing her balance as she fell backwards off of the crate. She hit the ground with a grunted _“oomph,”_ cursing her distinct lack of weapon.

Kasumi stared at them with a sly grin, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned against the wall across from them.

“Hey, guys! What’s going on in here?” she asked, her expression way too bright and knowing to pass for the innocent act she was going for.

Tali scrambled back up into her seat, piping up as Garrus lowered his pistol with a grumble.

“That answer depends on how long you’ve been standing there,” Tali explained, earning a shrug in response.

“Long enough,” Kasumi answered in a sing-song tone, as cryptic as ever.

“Not vague at all,” Garrus observed, narrowing his eyes in her direction. “How did you even get in here?”

Her responding scoff was both insulted and incredulous.

“Seriously?” she asked, throwing her hands up in disbelief. “Did you really just ask a master thief —no, _the_ best damn master thief in this entire galaxy— how she managed to break into your little get-together undetected?”

Garrus paused. “… Okay, point taken.”

She playfully rolled her eyes at them, looking around nonchalantly.

“Shepard is back,” she informed them, giddy as she watched Garrus closely. He knew what she was looking for, forcing himself to remain composed. “And she may or may not be on a warpath at the moment.”

Oh.

_Oh, no._

“A warpath?” Tali asked, exchanging a nervous look with Garrus.

If _Shepard_ was on a warpath, then chances were that blood would be spilled somewhere in the process.

“Something about Zaeed and that mission on Zorya,” Kasumi told them, activating her cloak as she disappeared once more. “She’s down in the cargo bay!”

Garrus didn’t even wait for her to finish before he was on his way out the doors, not even noticing how Tali stayed behind.

Leave it to her and Kasumi to team up on him, but that was the least of his worries, wondering what the hell Zaeed had done now to get under Shepard’s skin. It wouldn’t be the first time those two butted heads, nor would it be the first time that Garrus had to haul Shepard over his shoulder and away from the fight before she permanently maimed or maybe even killed the merc. From the sound of things, this time might be more serious than their usual heated bickering.

The ride down the elevator was torturously slow, which was saying something if _Garrus_ was the one complaining. After all, he was probably the only one of the original crew who didn’t mind their old elevator talks on the Citadel.

Once the doors opened up to reveal the cargo bay, Garrus braced himself for the worst.

Stepping out, he heard several grunts of exertion, followed by a few slews of swearing with Zaeed’s name thrown in here and there.

So far, so good. Garrus didn’t hear her and Zaeed screaming their heads off at each other at least, so there was that going for them.

And no corpse in sight? Even better.

Strolling off in the direction of the noise, he soon came across a relatively familiar scene, cocking his head to the side as he watched her.

There Shepard was, clad in a black sports bra and her usual N7 sweatpants. She was devoid of armor now, sneakers laced up snugly on her feet. Her hands were wrapped, Shepard pounding away at the punching bag she had down there for her workouts.

While Shepard was by no means on the “warpath” that Kasumi had hinted at, it was obvious that she was pissed in general, her scars glowing brighter than usual.

Garrus didn’t realize how long he stood there, simply staring at her bare waist. Shaking his head to clear it, he pointedly cleared his throat.

Shepard didn’t even flinch, didn’t even spare him a single glance.

“Was waiting for you to stop staring and say something,” she huffed, not once breaking her stride as her fists struck out relentlessly at the bag. “Got something on your mind?”

Yeah, her.

Not exactly something he was bold enough to say aloud, though.

“Ah, you know.” Garrus shrugged casually. “Heard that Zaeed was dumb enough to risk your wrath. I figured I would come down here and assess the casualties.”

Shepard smirked.

“Why? Have a bet riding on the outcome?” she asked, throwing him a sideways glance before throwing a vicious right hook. The bag shuddered under the force, Shepard following up with a quick succession of several blows. She bounced back lightly on her feet, puffing out a deep breath. “Hope you betted on me.”

“Always,” Garrus chuckled. “For one, I’m not stupid.”

“Good man,” she praised, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. Even with her hair thrown back into a messy ponytail, she still had a few wayward pieces that fell stubbornly in front of her eyes.

Garrus was fond of the look. It was something familiar to him, casual in a way that Shepard didn’t often show.

Rolling his neck, he began going through a series of stretches, knowing Shepard’s answer before he even asked the question.

“Want to spar?”

“As if you even have to ask.”

She threw a smirk his way, the grin stretching out her skin in a way that emphasized her scars. There were others that littered her skin beyond her face, some on her shoulders and even her back. Most of the time, they were visible where her freckles were most concentrated. All except her eyes, that is. A vibrant red against a stark green background. Her pupils were barely even visible anymore beyond the cybernetic glow.

They weren’t the same as her old ones, though, Garrus knew. When she was brought back, scars and cosmetic changes hadn’t exactly been a priority. All of the scars from _before_ the Collector attack, including those from the attack on Mindoir to her fight on Torfan to those final moments chasing down Saren and the geth… All of that was gone now, erased, with no way to bring them back.

As if she needed another reminder to feel less like her former self.

Shepard didn’t have to say it aloud. Garrus already knew. He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like if his own scars were gone for good. He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like if he didn’t have that physical reminder of what happened on Omega, of what happened to his squad. The whole situation felt distant enough as it was. Some days, it felt like it had all been a dream, something that his mind had simply made up. It felt like Garrus would awaken any day now from this nightmare and be back on the SR-1 after Sovereign had been defeated, all of them still riding high in the peak of their victory.

Instead, he had his scars there to ground him, to remind him of both what he had lost and what was at stake.

To lose them now would feel like losing a part of himself.

Perhaps that’s why Garrus never really found himself freaked out by Shepard’s new scars. Perhaps that’s why only he and few others could ever _truly_ understand her decision to turn down the surgery Chakwas offered, even after the med bay had a few upgrades.

She left herself the option, should she want it, even if she was never gonna use it.

So caught up he was by the sight of those bright red scars, Garrus didn’t even realize that Shepard had swept out her leg until it was too late, sending him sprawled out on his ass while she smirked down at him from above.

“Aw…” She pouted challengingly, cocking her head to the side as she appraised him. “Not even going to give me a challenge today, big guy? How disappointing.”

Oh, that smug little—

Okay, that was it.

Without warning, Garrus all but pounced at her, bringing her to the ground along with him. She gave a shocked grunt at the impact, instantly followed by a loud, delighted laugh.

Even in practice matches such as these, Shepard wasn’t the one to hold back. If one was to train with her, that was the first lesson they learned. She was the type to fight dirty, no matter the situation, and she rarely —if ever— restrained herself.

Try to pull punches, and she would strike back tenfold. A warning and a punishment, all wrapped up in one hit.

Garrus had learned that the hard way, but he was smarter now, quicker to act.

When she threw Garrus off of her, part of him couldn’t help but to marvel at her strength, but he didn’t have much time to sit there and gawk. Both of them were on their feet in seconds, staring each other down as they watched and waited for an opening.

Sooner or later, one of them had to have a break in their defenses.

Shepard bared her teeth at Garrus in an exhilarated grin, her eyes glowing brighter by the second. Adrenaline coursed through their veins, and their hearts pounded rapidly against their ribs.

Shep feinted forward, and Garrus instinctively stepped back.

Big mistake.

It was hard to believe Shepard wasn’t part krogan at this point. Give her the slightest hint of fear or weakness on your part, and she was sure to go charging.

Underestimating her was almost always the enemy’s downfall. They thought that the infiltrator in her would be content to sit back and snipe and hide away with her cloak as needed. They believed her ill-suited for close quarters combat, only to balk the second they closed the distance and realized that she _would not stand down._

Garrus figured, in their defense, it was hard to see the shotgun she kept on her person until it was already too late. By the time they noticed, they were either pumped full of rounds, or they had an omni-blade through the throat.

Either way, Garrus made a rookie mistake.

With Shepard, there was no faltering. He had his chance to stand his ground when she charged, and he blew it. Now, he was on the defensive, instead of pushing back against her assault like he should have been.

Her attacks were brutal, relentless. Fists and feet came at him in a quick flurry of punches and kicks, all of which he could only try to dodge and block in one fruitless attempt after another. Of course, several of the blows got through his defenses, leaving him winded in the aftermath.

 _Spirits, I love that woman,_ he thought, barely dodging a kick she threw.

…

Wait, _what?!_

He didn’t have time to give that a second thought, finally finding the opening that he had been waiting for.

Ducking underneath her punch, he took the chance to land a blow to her exposed side, countering with several hits of his own before she recovered. She skirted around him, but he was quicker than her by far, now that she used up some of her energy on her heavier hits.

The second she could, she retreated back several steps, both of them locked once again in a stare-off.

When she stepped to the side, looking for an opening once more, Garrus mirrored it with ease.

That got a smile out of her, a red drop of blood beading to the surface where her bottom lip had been split. Nothing serious, and if Garrus took the time to worry about it, she would have him on his ass in no time.

Definitely not speaking from experience.

She was fine. They had both suffered worse.

At the moment, Garrus was focusing more so on _not_ thinking about that little slip he had a few seconds ago.

Surely it was the adrenaline talking, nothing more. A stray, wayward thought that crept up on him in the heat of the moment.

Yeah, even he didn’t buy that load of bullshit.

“That all you got?” Shepard taunted.

Usually, he wasn’t one to rise to the bait, but he needed the distraction. _Badly._

This time, _he_ was the one to charge headfirst into the fight, and it effectively threw Shepard off, not having expected it. Wide-eyed and breathless, she met him hit-for-hit, her cheeks now a warm, tantalizing shade of red.

Her eyes twinkled with pure joy.

“Now, _that_ is more like it!” she laughed. Correction, she damn near _giggled,_ and it was such a stark contrast to what Garrus was used to hearing from her.

It made his heart skip a beat.

There was no telling how long they went back and forth with one another, time passing aimlessly in the background. One second, it looked like there was a clear lead with victory in sight. The next second, the other had the upper hand, refusing to surrender.

Eventually, as most of their fights ended these days, they called it a draw.

By the time they were done, both of them were little more than sweaty, panting messes. Bruised and battered, Garrus all but collapsed onto the floor, exhausted now that the rush of a good fight passed him by. Shepard at least had a little bit more grace, standing there—

 _And_ … There she went, plopping down right beside him with a solid _thunk._

Taking a moment to catch their breath, Garrus took stock of all his injuries, making sure that they didn’t go too overboard to warrant a trip to Dr. Chakwas.

Shepard must have been doing much the same, having her fair share of bruises and even a few shallow scratches from his talons.

Seeing that shouldn’t excite Garrus as much as it did. He usually disregarded it as some basic instinct that celebrated what victories he _did_ have; however, he knew now that it might be more than simple triumph. Shepard was quite the sight, covered in what were essentially _his_ marks, no matter how temporary.

Okay, _no._

No, no, no. Garrus wasn’t going to go down that road. He respected Shepard too damn much to simply reduce her to something to be claimed.

She must have sensed his staring, turning her face to him to raise an eyebrow in question.

“You all good over there?” she asked, glancing pointedly at the areas between his plating where his hide was a darker shade of blue.

Keeping quiet, he nodded.

“Yep,” he rasped out. “All good.”

Shepard grinned.

“Great!” She hopped to her feet, as if they didn’t just go several rounds against one another. When Shep offered her hand to him, Garrus accepted the help, letting her haul him up to his feet. “Let’s go hit the showers then, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, yearning for the relief of the hot spray against his already-sore muscles. “Let’s go.”

Strolling over towards the elevators, Shepard whistled cheerfully.

“Good to see you in a better mood,” Garrus stated, which earned him a huff in response.

“Don’t remind me.”

“Come on,” Garrus drawled, elbowing her pointedly. “What happened down there?”

“On Zorya?” She sniffed. “I pulled my gun on Zaeed’s stupid ass. What else do you think would happen when you’re majority of my impulse control?”

“A bad decision on your part, really.” Especially since he tended to enable her, rather than the opposite. “Seriously, though, I think there are some blanks that need filling in.”

Shepard sighed, “I went there under the assumption that we were there to liberate the refinery and save the workers that had been enslaved by a bunch of Blue Suns mercs.” Her brow furrowed. “You _know_ how I feel about slavers. Almost everybody in this damn galaxy knows how I feel about them after what happened on Mindoir. No one deserves that fate.”

Garrus nodded in understanding, waiting patiently as Shep took a deep, bracing breath before continuing.

“Zaeed, the dumbass, had other motives for going. I’m all for letting you guys run your personal missions your way. With what’s at stake, we all need our heads clear for the mission ahead, but all I ask in return is that you be straight up with me. Don’t sit there and yank me around all over the place like a damn fool.” Her scowl turned fierce, sending a shiver down Garrus’s spine. Whether it be from fear and intimidation or from _something else,_ there was no telling. “The Blue Suns’ leader, Vido Santiago, was there. Zaeed has apparently had it out for this guy for years, so what does he do?”

She clenched her hands into fists, scars bulging under the strain of her muscles.

“He sets the damn refinery on fire!” She snaps, throwing her hands up in disbelief. “With the workers still in there! I’m one of the first who will admit that sometimes the ends justify the means. Vido was a piece of shit, and his very existence posed a threat to many more people than there probably were in that refinery. But I’m not going to sit there and just let the workers die when they didn’t have to in the first place, all because Zaeed’s dumbass wanted to play rogue and challenge _my_ authority. All Miranda had to do was manage one decent singularity or stasis field while Santiago was going on with his whole evil villain monologue, but _no,_ Zaeed has to try and handle things his damn self!”

“All while making things worse,” Garrus finished for her.

“Thank you,” she snorted, bitter and enraged. “So yeah, I sent Miranda off to gather up as many survivors as possible. I went with Zaeed, pumped Vido full of lead, and then pulled my gun on Zaeed’s ass when all was said and done. Threatened to throw him in the fire _he_ started and leave him there if he couldn’t fall in line and realize that he was part of a team now. I can’t go into a fucking suicide mission if I can’t even trust the people at my back to —oh, I don’t know— _have my back._ ”

Garrus let her rant and rave as they boarded the elevator, staring at her in awe.

Her fury was truly something impressive. Well, when you’re not on the receiving end of it at least.

“What?” she asked, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

Garrus shook his head to clear it.

“Nothing,” he said, voice thicker than usual. When she stared back at him in disbelief, he tried to turn the attention away from himself. “So…?”

“‘So’ what?” she retorted.

“So, what happened?”

“Oh, that.” She rolled her eyes. “He agreed to fall in line. In his own way. Was that ever in doubt?”

“With your powers of persuasion?” Garrus deadpanned. “Never.”

She snickered, the door soon opening up to the crew’s quarters.

Garrus wasn’t even surprised when she stepped out alongside him. Despite having her own bathroom, she rarely used it. The way she explained it to Garrus, she was military down to the bone and always will be. While she didn’t mind the captain’s quarters as a whole, having grown used to her own space on the SR-1, she never did quite break the habit of using the community bathrooms. Strange as it might be, she liked having the company during her showers and “morning routine,” taking the downtime to simply talk with the others, usually Miranda or Thane or occasionally Jack.

That being said, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary about their current situation, so far as Garrus was concerned.

Which is why he was confused about the amount of looks they were attracting, his plates practically itching at all of the attention.

After they each grabbed a towel and a few standard supplies, Garrus sighed when the doors shut behind them, locking them for good measure.

Shepard quirked a brow at that, but shrugged, getting undressed once she claimed her usual spot.

“Afraid of someone walking in on ya, Garrus? Never took you to be the prudish type.”

“Just don’t want anyone ruining the mood, is all,” he joked, to which Shepard chuckled.

For a second, he thought he heard her say, “If only there was a mood to ruin,” but her words were mumbled so quietly under her breath that he was uncertain.

He blinked at her, gaping.

“Did—” Right. _Use your words, Garrus, and close your mouth for spirits’ sakes._ He swallowed thickly, careful not to let his gaze linger anywhere but her face. “Did you say something?”

She simply stared back at him in bewilderment.

“What?”

Maybe he misheard. Of course, he could always press the issue, but was Garrus really bold enough to do so?

At the moment, no.

“Nothing,” he eventually conceded.

The silence was suddenly thick with tension. The only noise in the room for a while was the quiet shuffle of clothes as they got out of them, followed soon after by the spray of water once the showers started up. Garrus probably should have taken up a spot a few spaces down, but he had already set up the one next to Shepard. At this point, it would be more awkward to move, drawing attention to himself when he wanted anything but.

He would have to suffer through it, despite how her presence at his side was beyond difficult to ignore.

Garrus caught himself flashing glances in her direction a few times, snapping his eyes forward each time he felt them stray.

The heat of her beside him was nerve-wracking yet electrifying, all the same. His heart didn’t know whether it wanted to stop entirely or pick up the pace.

And Garrus could have _sworn_ that Shepard —that _Jane_ — spared him a few of her own searching, curious glances.

It made him feel like that bumbling, inexperienced C-Sec agent all over again, faced with this human woman who faced down every challenge with an intense focus and determination. She always seemed so sure and certain of herself.

But Garrus had to keep reminding himself that even Shepard was imperfect. Even Shepard had her doubts. She wasn’t invincible, not by a long shot, and she had confided in him about that throughout a lot of their time spent together, whether it be over drinks or cards or shooting or whatever caught their interest at the time.

And if the destruction of the original Normandy taught him anything, it was that his future with her was never guaranteed. All they had was the present, especially with a suicide mission looming on the horizon, so what was holding him back?

He opened his mouth. To say what? He didn’t know, but he knew that he had to say _something._

Too bad Shepard beat him to it, completely throwing off his train of thought.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you staring,” she said, taking her hair down from its ponytail. Garrus watched with fascination as the red strands fell down around her face, his stomach churning at her words. Surely, he misinterpreted the looks she threw his way, cursing himself for being so dumb and jumping to conclusions. “It’s the scars, right?”

Hold on a second. What?

His bewildered silence must have been confirmation enough for her, because Shepard continued on without pause.

“It must bother you. I mean,” she scoffed, “I know that it bothers _me.”_

She held her arms out in front of her, appraising the spider-web-like cracks that broke through her skin, emanating that eerie red glow.

“Surely it must bother you,” she repeated, her voice quieter this time, “that I might not be me.”

Such a comment made him recall his earlier conversation with Tali, thinking over his answer before he responded.

“Hmm…” He hummed in contemplation. “That sounds like something better suited to ask a philosopher about, right? Are you really Commander Shepard? What makes a person uniquely them? Is it the experience, their memories? Their ‘badassery,’ as Joker calls it?”

When Shepard realized he was screwing around, she huffed, shoving at him playfully.

He ignored how even that touch made his nerves light up in excitement.

“No,” he sighed, “it doesn’t bother me.”

Shepard grimaced, pushing her hair back from her face as the water poured down on her from above.

“Liar,” she accused, but Garrus stood his ground.

“I’m not.”

“So, you don’t have any doubts?” she questioned, disbelief coloring her tone. _“At all?”_

“Now, don’t go putting words in my mouth,” he said. “You tried to say that it bothers me, which it doesn’t, but I didn’t say anything about having doubts, which I do.” When he noticed her expression fall, he rushed to cut her off before she could say or do anything that would distance her from him. “Shepard, even _you_ have doubts. You know that I’m not going to lie to you about something like this, even when the truth hurts.”

“Hmph.” She gave him what could only be described as a pout, soon lathering up some soap before the showers got _too_ cold. “You’re lucky that I like that about you, or I’d kick your ass.”

“Promises, promises.” He paused, scrutinizing her reaction. “Seriously, though, why ask if you already knew the answer would upset you?”

“Because I’m a glutton for punishment, that’s why,” she snorted.

“If it makes you feel any better, my doubts are very slim.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.” Their eyes locked, and for a second, it felt like everything around them melted away. For one instant, it was simply them, Garrus and Shepard. “In any case, I’m certain enough that I think the gamble is well worth it.”

Shepard smiled bitterly.

“Enough to risk your life on it?”

“Enough to risk my life on it,” he answered, both of them falling into a somber silence.

As they thought over all that was both said and left unsaid, they made quick work of washing off. When the water started to cool, they took that as their cue to hurry their asses up, both of them rinsing off through the shivers.

Garrus thought he even heard Shepard shriek at one point. His suspicions were quickly confirmed as he watched her dart out of the spray’s range, covered in goosebumps with a petulant glare.

He snickered at her, covering it up as a half-assed cough when she turned her glare onto him.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, big guy.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

That earned him a towel to the face, both of them beaming like a couple of idiots.

As he worked to get all of the water dried out of his carapace, he was soon caught up in the moment again, their conversation reminding him just how temporary this all could be once they hit the Omega-4 Relay.

Well, now or never, right?

“Hey, Shep.”

When she turned to face him, she was busy drying her hair, not even bothering to cover up. Not that she probably saw any need to. She was comfortable in her own skin, Garrus knew, but it did nothing to instill any confidence in him. If anything, his sudden urge to _stare_ made him feel like nothing less than a creep, carefully averting his gaze.

Why did his mouth feel dry all of a sudden?

“Uh, yeah, right.” Spirits, could he be anymore of a mess, stumbling over his words like this was his first time seeing a woman naked? Great. “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you a question for a while now.”

“Okay,” she said, drawing the word out slowly. “Shoot.”

Right. He could do this.

He couldn’t do this.

Garrus, chicken that he was, took the coward’s way out, settling for the first question that came to mind.

“I’ve been wondering, why _did_ you let me shoot Sidonis?”

Apparently even _this_ heavy line of questioning was preferable to asking whether Shepard was attracted to him or not, romantically or otherwise.

How delightful.

As they finished drying off, Shepard pursed her lips, giving his question some thought as they wrapped themselves up in their towels.

Well, at least Garrus didn’t have to worry about as many _—ahem—_ distractions compared to before.

Geez, he felt pathetic.

“Damn, Garrus.” Shepard gave a shaky laugh. “You don’t hold back, do you?”

When he didn’t reply, she grimaced, scratching at one of the scars on her cheek.

“Right. Well, hell, I don’t know.” She shrugged helplessly, then immediately huffed at herself. “Okay, that’s a lie. I _do_ know, but I would say it’s the same reason why I stepped aside and kept my mouth shut with Miranda and Jack on their missions—”

“Except you didn’t ‘keep your mouth shut,’” Garrus countered, genuinely confused. “You weren’t exactly playing the neutral party, Shep. You were hesitating the entire time, more than I’ve ever seen you hesitate before. You even tried to stop me from shooting _Harkin.”_

Her expression darkened, and Garrus wondered if he was overstepping some kind of unspoken boundary drawn between them.

When her expression eventually relaxed, he let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding, watching her face contort into something sadder than her usual scowl.

It was uncomfortable, to say the least. Garrus couldn’t remember the last time he saw Jane _sad_ before, overwhelmed by the sudden urge to wrap her up in his arms and tuck her head under his chin.

Yeah, because she would respond really well to that.

He squashed down the urge, suppressing it until it was silenced once more.

“Okay, yeah, I had my reservations, no doubt about it.” She chewed nervously on her bottom lip, unable to look at him directly. “I know, it’s not my usual MO. For the most part, I’ve been letting you guys run the show on your personal missions. You know—” She scowled, still bitter about the day’s earlier events. “—so long as we’re all on the same page and innocent civilian casualties are kept to a minimum.”

Garrus cocked his head to the side, waiting patiently until she finally looked at him again.

“Then why was I any different?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

He didn’t even notice how close they had gotten during the course of their conversation. Who took the first step towards who? He couldn’t rightfully say, his head spinning once he finally _did_ take note of their close proximity.

Without much thought, he lifted up a hand, eventually placing it on her arm in an attempt to comfort her. She leaned into his touch like a moth drawn into a flame, and Garrus couldn’t help but to marvel at the response.

She squeezed her eyes shut, taking in a slow, deep breath. In through her nose, out through her mouth. Repeat.

“I asked myself that over and over,” she whispered, her face crumpling in pain.

When she opened her eyes, they were shining brightly, glistening with unshed tears that refused to fall. Tears for _him._

“I—” Her voice broke, but he waited, patient and understanding.

He would always wait for her. That, above all else, he knew to be true.

“I didn’t want you to become like _Saren,”_ she explained, sneering at the mere mention of his name. The heat didn’t last long, though, her gaze distant. “I didn’t want you to become like _me.”_

And didn’t that feel like a big punch to the gut?

Garrus didn’t respond, didn’t really know how to. It felt like part of him had been hollowed out, nothing left of him but an empty husk at such a confession.

“Perhaps I thought that being more ruthless like me was what was best for you at one point, but—” She gave a shattered, empty laugh. “—death tends to put things in perspective, especially when it concerns those that you… care about.”

Yeah, that was one way to put it.

“So, yeah, I gave you shit and fought you all the way about it. Because even _I’m_ not sure what the right answer to any of this is. A part of me wonders whether all that stuff I taught you back on the SR-1 was really the right way to go about things, or whether I was just taking you down with me the whole time. Whether I was just dragging you to an early grave as well.” She sniffed, wrinkling her nose at herself. “I don’t want you to turn out like me, where the mission is the only thing that matters, no matter what the cost. Where each life taken isn’t a _person_ anymore, but another number to add to your body count.”

Hot, angry tears spilled out the corners of her eyes, so she yanked away from Garrus, swiping at her eyes furiously.

“I don’t want you to carry that burden,” she said. Even though she kept her voice calm and even, she might as well have been screaming the words at him. “But I didn’t stop you because it wasn’t my place. Even if I wanted to, _it wasn’t my place._ It wasn’t my squad member that betrayed me. I’ve never been in that situation. It wasn’t my right to make that call for you.”

“So you stepped aside,” Garrus whispered.

She nodded.

“So I stepped aside,” she echoed, “even when every fiber of my being was telling me not to. Whether killing him was a mistake or not, only you can say for sure. At the end of the day, it was your decision to make, not mine, and I realized then that I can’t keep sheltering you from learning and making your own mistakes. Same applies to everyone on this ship. You have so much potential, Garrus, believe it or not. But I can’t keep making these types of life-changing decisions for everyone else, not when I already have so much riding on me outside of everyone’s personal matters.”

Garrus had the feeling that she wasn’t only talking about Sidonis anymore.

“You’re upset that I left the Spectres,” he stated, the realization hitting him like a slap to the face.

Shepard at least had the decency to look sheepish.

“Kind of,” she admitted, “but only because I know that the galaxy needs more people like you, Garrus. Trustworthy, dependable, courageous.”

He coughed at the compliments, rubbing at his neck in embarrassment.

“Shep, come on. Really?”

“Yes, really.” She rolled her eyes at him. “Doubt yourself as much as you want, but I know the truth. I understand your reasons for leaving, but the Council was stupid as hell for letting you go without a fight.”

“Their loss then.”

“It really is.”

“Excuse me if I continue to doubt that.”

After all, it was in large part his fault that his whole squad died. Sure, Sidonis sold him out, but he should’ve known something was up from the start.

Would he really have fared any better as a Spectre when he had been all too quick to trust?

No one could say for certain. That’s how Garrus saw it, at least.

“Well, if anything, don’t just think that I’m going to stand by and let you sit idle on the sidelines,” Shepard warned him, narrowing her eyes in challenge. “I already get enough flack about how I’m ‘squandering your potential.’”

Garrus’s brow plates pressed firmly together.

“Who said that?” he asked, his dual-toned voice reverberating with frustration.

Shepard shrugged, her lips zipped tight on that matter.

“Can’t say for sure.” Uh-huh… As if anything happened on her ship without her knowing. “But I hear the whispers here and there. A lot of people seem to think that I keep you by my side out of some power-hungry, malicious intent. Apparently, I’m a sadistic bitch that loves how much power and influence I have over ya.”

This time, both of them scoffed.

“Gotta keep you loyal and by my side.” She winked, feigning a dramatic pout. “Heaven forbid I be without my favorite turian.”

Garrus smirked.

“You wouldn’t survive a day,” he teased, although that joke fell a bit flat now, all things considered. He tried a different approach then. “Besides, we all know that the one, true reason you keep me by your side is for my good looks.”

Shepard gave him a thorough once-over, one that instantly sent heat straight to his gut.

The appreciative smirk she threw his way left his mind a muddled mess, Garrus tensing ever so slightly under her gaze.

“About time you figured it out,” she said, strolling out of the showers, clad only in her towel.

She whistled cheerfully on her way out, Garrus’s brain short-circuiting long enough that she was already boarding the elevator by the time he got his shit together and gave chase.

“Hey, wait!” he called out. His feet scraped on the floor as he skidded to a stop, the elevator door sliding shut. “Did you really mean that, or—”

All he received in response was a light, teasing laugh.

On his way to his locker to get dressed, he received a message on his omni-tool, only reading it once he was fully clothed.

It was insane, how very little words from her could send his heart racing in his chest.

_Come by my cabin later if you’d like, and we’ll find out._

As if that was an invitation he’d ever turn down.

Later on, Garrus finally got his answer.

Turns out, Jane was very, _very_ attracted to him. In more ways than one.

**Author's Note:**

> Translation:  
> Ax'kah - asshole
> 
> The time in her cabin was definitely spent cuddling and watching movies. Get your minds out of the gutter.
> 
> Feel free to comment and/or leave a kudos if you'd like, though. All of your feedback, no matter how brief, is much appreciated. <3


End file.
